Tag Archives: memories

The Separation

“I sat down, recollecting and refurbishing the details of our last encounter. The time froze as the thoughts poured in to the floating phrases that I had been left to deal with. I closed my eyes, and finally allowed them the space to regroup into a complete whole for me to understand. The play was disturbing; the first thought that sparked reminded me of the void she had left, years ago. It’s really strange that the first possible thought we get when we meet someone, who used to be close, is the one of departure, the one that actually hurts.

It was raining heavily that day; cyclone warning had been issued and the landfall was expected in the next 6 hours. I still remember the frantic calls she had made to my office and how easily I had brushed them aside. She kept telling me to come home soon but I had an important client to satisfy. The deal would have been a big boost to my company, it would have sent us to the next level and I was too ambitious to avoid that. The last call that I received from her was on 8:05 P.M. There were 12 missed calls from her in total. When I finally gave her a call an hour later, the lines were left jammed. I kept trying her phone but all I could hear was how unreachable she was. I didn’t leave hope, as I frantically called her number every other minute, but signal was nowhere to be found.

I left the office in a hurry, managed my way through the overflowing flood to finally reach home. The lights were cut off, the house door was left open. The water had seeped in and all the items were floating in the verandah. I sensed my daughter’s teddy bear near my leg, while her favourite red dress was flowing away in to the main road. I couldn’t control my anxiety any more; the endless thoughts were running amok in my head. All of them related to their safety but I couldn’t find a trace of that in the house. I enquired with the neighbours but nobody was able to answer. I leaned towards the wall and seated myself with the tears that began to flow; it even beat the rain that stopped half a day later.

Next day, I reached my friend’s place after I received a text from her about Tara and Arya.

“Is she safe? How is Arya? Where are they?”

“They are upstairs.” She replied.

As I made my way towards the stairs, my friend stopped me with words that shook my world and left me shattered in a second.

“She wants divorce Ryan. She can’t handle you anymore.”

I didn’t want to believe those words, my Tara can never do that to me. I know my selfish self was talking again, but some characters in us are really difficult to be plucked.

I went ahead with the stairs and knocked her door only to hear the same words from Tara. The only difference was that this one broke my heart to pieces which I was sure would be never fixed again. I could hear my daughter sob from a distance but I wasn’t allowed inside the room. The door remained shut despite my endless protests. I didn’t realise then that the door would be bolted for me forever.

We signed the divorce papers the next Wednesday, and the last sight I remember of my daughter was in the court where her mother took the custody from me forever.

Today after ten long years, I saw Tara again.”



The Walk

“There is always a walk that I wonder about,
the one I so wanted to take her along;
I was too lost in her thoughts, I was too happy
within the possibilities of chirping in a word
or two, leaving her convinced that I was no creep,
that I was someone who genuinely cared
and had an equal share of respect tagged along;
these possibilities were too beautiful to stay away
but the reality a bit too weird to come about
making me stuff those words deep within, and the moment
when she glanced across I had my head tilted away with embarrassment as my mind roared with many voices at once,
leaving a few that caught be my surprise;
“Did she judge me as another stalker?” I felt terribly small
at the sight of this very thought; I hid my face deeper within my palms to see between the gaps a person walking right towards me,
I glanced again into the ever widening gaps to find her
waiting for me to come out from my hiding
that I graciously avoided for a solid two minutes,
before she patted her way across, leaving me with no choice
but to stand a feet way with the most creepy smile that I always dread about.
I sheepishly tried to defend my act,
“I wasn’t looking at you, not me. No me. I just came!” and what not,
only to see a smile appear over her face as she walked past me
to stop a moment later to look back at what I was possibly wondering and may be thinking whether I would ever ask her out,
but the mystique within me, the one who saw the possibilities
remained preoccupied again and the words that I had stuffed earlier
didn’t come out right even now as she disappeared from my plain sight into the mist as I whispered a silent “Hi” and sat back down
wondering about the walk that could have been,
the one I so wanted to take her along.”

Pic Courtesy: pxleyes.com (Created by Patty)

Fading into blue

“There is a side unclear, a side untold,
The version of us that we never show,
We hide it locked inside a closet
We let it remain till we would never know.

Charades of life put an extra weight
To the burden that we carry of a lost side,
In appearance we try to look perfect
But in truth, we only miss the other half fade.

Time comes once with every peek we take
At the locked closet in our heart,
It’s a sight endearing about the memories of a child,
Lost in search for an eternal spring that never arrived.

Battling the wits and the cronies,
Scarring the dreams we once felt,
We move with time with circles in our head
To understand it’s okay that we all do grey.

Things slip, things are compromised,
Shelves are divided and organised,
The locked closet drifts away in memory
As things slip, and things are prioritized.”

“Walk Away” Pic Credits: Google (Couldn’t find the real photographer to tag)

That Minute

With shrillness in her voice & a sense of despair in her eyes,
She cajoled her emotions to withhold a minute further,
A minute that had never moved since the day many months ago.

She stepped to move further but to realize she was only going back,
She decided to take a seat back home but she ended where she began,
She knew she was losing it, but she didn’t realize she was stuck.

Raging over that person who took away that minute from her,
The minute she had waited for so long, the minute where he walked away from her;
She knew she was stuck but she knew she can’t admit the same.

Out driving the wheel to meet the loneliness of the road ahead,
Wishing that their company would be better than hers,
She drove towards the sea, to that very place where he sailed away.

Reminiscing the memories of the last minute,
The minute where he had chosen his nation over her,
The minute where he had made her a promise,
The promise to be with her forever and ever.

Months had passed by; the war had long ended,
But she kept running among the waves,
Waiting for that minute which never arrived,
She knew she was losing faith but she knew she can never admit the same.

The Continuity of Life

Walking down the crowded street, watching different types of people juggling their way out, I try to step aside & ponder.

Every person has their story and their set of experiences, and in some way or the other they get connected to us. It could be as simple as an acquaintance on the road where their simple smile could brighten up my day, making me cherish their presence till they blemish in my memories. Or it could be as complex as getting caught by my father’s friend when I try to experience my first puff of cigarette amid the crowded street. These memories start flying back to me as I re-join the crowd, trying to find a face familiar to whom I have seen before.

To my displeasure I couldn’t find a single one, but I did have a new set of people who left a mark on my memory, willing to be cherished for their sheer presence.

“ It’s not always right to expect the past to repeat but the essence of life depends on what the present is putting up on offer. So let’s cherish the life as it comes.”

The Strange Ritual

Read the before part: Forgotten Wishes

Travelling has been part and parcel of my work life, flying me into different cities and throwing me into different climates; it’s tough especially when you have to leave behind your family and travel alone. I would be wrong to generalize that I always hated these trips as there was a time where I was looking out for them and grabbing even the half- hearted opportunities that came my way. But now it’s different, I have been married and have an eight year old daughter who I have to look out for, which makes me want to give rest to these age old wings which I had acquired through my innumerable trips to these innumerable places in this majestic world.

Long back, I had started a strange ritual whenever I am on these travel trips which has now completely gotten into me; I think this started nine years ago, when I had to leave behind my wife to travel to Mumbai, though a domestic destination which wouldn’t last for even a day or so, but I missed being with her. May be it was the occasion which I was going to miss or maybe I just wanted to be with her and celebrate our first wedding anniversary together, but work commitments got better of me and I had to leave. So there I was seated in the aircraft which was getting ready for take-off, while I was staring at this picture of my wife in my wallet, running my fingers over her glossy hair, smiling back at her as if she was for real. If the take-off wasn’t that bumpy I would have literally spoken to her, I am pretty sure I would have been serious. Every time we passed through turbulent skies and when the aircraft became all shaky, I would be seen holding the picture close to my heart. It was strange for me because I never attached so much of emotion for someone and also no one ever loved me back the way she did.

The meeting got over as per the schedule; I boarded my flight back to Delhi and trust me, every minute felt longer than usual. I just wanted to see her, so I started rushing out as soon as the flight landed and even to the point that I was cursing the airport authorities for the delay in arranging the walkway. I just couldn’t wait.

As I rushed outside the arrival facility to catch a cab, I failed to notice a humble tap on my shoulder and finally it was her voice which made me turn towards her. I simply hugged her and didn’t let her go for a couple of minutes. We missed each other, we surely did; it was the first time since our marriage that we had stayed apart for close to a day and it also came on the most important occasion of our lives. We took our car, and went to that favourite burger place of hers which I had my friend to book the entire place in advance. Yes you heard it right; it was not a candlelight dinner which everyone expects to go on their anniversaries. It was just a simple but special burger place, because it’s the same place where we first met and fell in love.

Now, 9 years later, I walk in to this restaurant for my daughter, it’s also her favourite place to eat; like mother like daughter. I do get these glimpses of my wife all around this place making me feel close to her, though she isn’t anymore. The time we spent here will always be priceless; I just wish she could have lived a little longer.

This time as I wait in the airport, the minutes start to appear longer than the usual. I just wanted to be with my little sweetheart whose birthday I almost missed. Like the previous occasion, I had my friend to book the entire place for me and my daughter to celebrate; she was going to turn eight.

So as I took my seat in the aircraft, I carried on with my ritual, and today I just missed her more than anything, may be it was the occasion and maybe I just wanted her to be with me however I wasn’t alone; our daughter missed her more than me.

Flight prepared to take-off while I was holding her picture close to my heart and wondering what gifts we should get for our daughter.

The End.

Taj Mahal

Eyes fly towards the window of distant past,
The shutters grace some rest from the early winter
As I wait down below for the dawn to arrive.

Those rays of hope and joy, enlivening the place
I had built for my queen to stay by,
Though her stay was short but her aura still remains through these rays.

Marbles doesn’t provide me the peace
Which they are actually meant for,
But it provides me the shine reminding me the sun staring down below.

I feel my queen is looking back at me and smiling
Through the eyes of the sun; I finally find my solace,
So I wait down below for the dawn to arrive and the shutters to rise,
And enliven me to relive the life with you the way it should be.